


why can't we be ourselves [like we were yesterday]

by sinandmisery



Category: Halt and Catch Fire
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:22:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22784011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinandmisery/pseuds/sinandmisery
Summary: A bit of canon-divergence that supposes that Cam actually went to Sonoma with Donna and that their conversation wasn't just a shroom-induced hallucination.
Relationships: Donna Clark/Cameron Howe
Comments: 9
Kudos: 65





	why can't we be ourselves [like we were yesterday]

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this is a little bit of a canon-divergent headcanon I've been messing around with, which plays on a few things:  
> 1) Donna and Gordon actually (finally) got divorced after the cheating thing came out.  
> 2) The whole Cam and Tom marriage never actually happened because why.  
> 3) Cam and Donna actually worked things out in Sonoma instead of being stubborn idiots.
> 
> also extremely un-beta'd so... here's hoping for the best.

The drive to Sonoma is almost painful in its silence, with Cameron opting to play music from her Walkman and stare out the window, pointedly ignoring Donna.

Donna, for her part, turns the car radio on, low enough that she can still hear the sound leaking from Cameron's headphones, and tries to ignore the petulant teenager vibes from Cameron as they make their way up the 101. She runs through a hundred different conversations in her head, resolving to work everything out once they've arrived and can have a serious conversation without the distraction of the road or anything - or anyone - else. 

\---

By time they reach the vineyard, Cameron's asleep, slumped against the door, headphones half slipped from her ears. Donna takes the key from the ignition and wrestles with how to wake her, knowing that a sleeping Cameron is not unlike a wild animal at the best of times. 

"Hey, Cam," she says quietly, gently brushing her fingers across Cameron's shoulder. "We're here."

Cameron jolts awake and blinks several times, eyes wide and bleary as she looks around, adjusting to her surroundings. 

Donna catches the dark circles under her eyes and frowns. It makes her heart ache to see Cameron still so exhausted, and she sighs, wondering that if they somehow manage to work their way out of this, if Cameron will ever be able relinquish the tiniest bit of control for the sake of her health.

Without a word, Cameron jerks away and climbs out of the car, headed for the door with her beat up duffle bag.

Donna sighs. It's going to be a long weekend.

\---

After a quick exploration of the house - including the insanely oversized closet and impossibly soft cashmere sweater she immediately swears to herself she will one day own - Donna settles into one of the bedrooms and draws a bath. She luxuriates in the warm water and bubbles in an attempt to wash away the anxiety building about the impending uncomfortable conversation with Cameron.

It needs to happen. She _knows_ that. But something about this feels heavier, like a bigger divide to cross than they have ever encountered before. Loathe as she is to admit it, Donna knows a large part of this current rift falls on her shoulders, knows she should have been honest with Cam from the jump, or at the very least when they'd worked things out when she came back from Texas. Building frustration, minor arguments, and then quietly working it out together had always been their M.O., but working it out had always been predicated by their honesty with one another, even if it took that building frustration for it to come out.

And then once _that's_ settled, there's the topic of acquisition offers and IPOs to navigate. More than anything, she just hopes they make it out of this weekend together.

Once the water goes tepid, Donna dresses, wraps herself in the sweater and heads downstairs to make an early dinner. Cameron is kicked back on the couch, shoes thankfully off, reading a tattered copy of _Rolling Stone_ and still listening to her headphones. Donna pauses as she passes through the room, but Cameron doesn't bother looking up so she sighs and makes her way into the kitchen.

She knows the best way to start this conversation is to wait for Cameron to be ready and come to her, but it's been half a day at this point - and who knows how long since Cameron actually found out - and they haven't budged an inch. 

Donna takes her time preparing sandwiches and a small salad, chopping and slicing and placing everything _just so_ , and tells herself it's not just a delay tactic, even if she knows better.

She hears Cameron enter the kitchen as she puts everything back in the fridge, and turns to her with a smile.

"Hey."

"Hi," Cameron mutters, shifting her weight awkwardly and looking anywhere but at Donna.

"You hungry?" Donna asks, and Cameron nods. "Sit, then. I made you one."

"Thank you," Cameron says as Donna adds a handful of chips to her plate and passes it across the island.

They eat in continued silence for a few more moments, every crunch of a chip or bite of a salad echoing loudly in Donna's head until she says, "Can we talk now?"

Cameron shrugs, not looking up from her plate, and Donna knows it's the only opening she's going to get right now.

"So you talked to Diane."

"I talked to Diane," Cameron confirms, deadpan. "Her recollection of your conversation was a lot different than yours."

"Yeah."

"I just... ugh," Cameron growls from frustration. "Explain it to me, Donna, because I can't for the life of me understand why you were so adamant about keeping Doug and Craig that you lied to my face! And then you said you had my back, _knowing_ you had kept that from me."

"I didn't mean..." Donna starts, but then fumbles, not knowing how to truly explain herself and not just make it sound like an excuse.

"You know what, save it," Cameron says, sliding out of her chair. "I'm going to go for a walk."

"Cam, come on..."

"I'll be back later. Don't wait up."

Donna slumps against the counter, defeated, and listens to the door slam behind Cameron as the divide between them seems to grow by the minute.

No longer hungry, she packs away what's left of her and Cameron's uneaten sandwiches. She attempts to look over some of the monthly reports for Mutiny's financials, but as soon as she pulls them from her bag, she knows she's not in the right mindset and puts them away. She settles for a glass of wine and a random book pulled from Diane's shelves, and curls into the end of the couch Cameron was lounging on earlier, but that lasts approximately a chapter and a half before she finds herself zoning out. After reading the same sentence 5 times, she gives up on that as well. 

As she goes to pour herself another glass of wine, she notices that the sun has set, wrapping the property in darkness. Her worry for Cameron comes unbidden, wondering if she's nearby or able to find her way back in the dark. Forgoing the glass of wine, she steps out onto the back porch, overlooking the pool. It's a warm August evening, so she steps back inside and sheds the sweater, hanging it on a hook inside the door before continuing outside.

She marvels at the sky as she walks across the yard, amazed at how many stars she can see compared to back in Palo Alto. She lays down in the middle of the yard, unconcerned with the slight dampness of the grass already seeping through her jeans. She runs her fingers through the soft blades and breathes deeply, trying to let the stars and the sound of the world around her calm her racing mind. 

It reminds her of nights in Texas as a kid, when her dad would set up a telescope in their backyard and point out the constellations to her. They had seemed so far away then, but the expanse of the sky here, unpolluted by light, seemed so close she could reach out and touch it.

She hears movement coming towards her and she tilts her head slightly toward the sound, a faint shadow casted across her face as Cameron approaches. "You came," she says with a smile, hoping to not betray her relief that Cameron hadn't just hitchhiked back home.

Cameron nods softly. "I figured we should talk," she says, her voice cracked and sad, like she may have been crying. 

Donna sits back up, tucking her feet underneath her. "Come," she says, patting the grass next to her. "Sit with me."

Cameron kneels beside her, and Donna waits, letting Cameron take the lead.

"I don't like this," Cameron says after a moment, eyebrows knitted as if she can't quite understand her own emotions. She looks at Donna sadly and says, "I don't like feeling this way."

"I hate it, too," Donna agrees. "I don't know how we got here."

"You lied to me, Donna," Cameron says, her wide, doe-eyed look cutting Donna to the core.

"I know, but I... it didn't feel like a lie at the time," Donna admits. "It felt like what was best for the company, like what was best for you."

Cam just looks at her, confused, and Donna doesn't know how to explain what she means without admitting how it pulls at her heart every time she sees Cameron overworked and on the brink of burn out. How it pains her to ignore the signs of Cameron's anxiety taking control for fear Cameron will pull away even further.

Instead, she just says, "I am just as good at this as you are."

"No one ever said you weren't," Cam says defensively.

"They don't have to say it. It's there all the time. It's deafening. 'Cam is the genius. Donna is the mom,'" she says, voicing her own anxiety she's had since day one at Mutiny.

Cam swallows hard, nods. "So we're back where we started," she says, as if she's resigned to this being it.

"No," Donna replies, almost pleading with Cameron. The end is the last thing she wants out of this. "No, not yet. I mean, look at this place. Did you ever think we'd be here?"

Donna lays back on the grass, heart thudding in her chest as she waits to hear it's over. Mutiny's over. They're over. 

Cameron shifts, laying down on the damp grass beside Donna. "How many times do you need to hear that I can't do this without you?"

The lump in Donna's throat grows with those words, and she can feel the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. Her fingers brush against the soft fabric of her shirt, itching to reach out and touch Cameron. To solidify this moment between them. She turns her head and looks at Cameron, at the hopeful look on her face, and says, more earnestly than she's ever said anything else in her life, "I'm sorry that I lied to you."

"I forgive you," Cameron says, voice barely above a whisper. She drops her hand between them, just barely brushing against Donna's thigh. It's a rare reversal of roles, Donna being the anxious one and Cameron there to reassure her, and it reminds Donna just how intuitive and comforting Cameron can be, despite all her claims to the contrary.

Donna rolls on to her side, propped up on her elbow and reaching between them with her other hand for Cam's, idly playing with her fingers. "We're okay, right?" she asks, not looking at Cameron.

"We will be. We have to be," Cameron says. She gently pulls her hand free from Donna's so she can adjust to lay on her side as well. She tucks her arm under her head as a makeshift pillow, looking up so she can catch Donna's eye. "I already told you," she continues, nudging Donna's knee with her own. "I can't do this without you."

"You could though," Donna insists, momentarily breaking their eye contact to wipe away the tears starting to escape. "You might need _someone_ , but that doesn't mean you need _me_."

"Maybe," Cameron says with a small shrug. She brings her hand up to cup Donna's cheek, damp and slightly chilly from the grass. "But I _want_ you."

Donna's heart leaps into her throat at Cameron's words as every moment between them - every teasing nudge of the elbow during late night shoulder-to-shoulder work sessions, every shy half-smile, every borderline flirtatious comment - is suddenly highlighted in razor-sharp clarity in her memory. She opens her mouth to speak, but her words get swallowed by Cameron's mouth on her own - soft, but insistent - before they are even uttered.

And just like that, the divide is crossed.

  
  
  
  


  
  
  



End file.
